


cross examination

by averzierlia



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: AU - Lawyers, AU - Modern, AU - No Powers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-11
Updated: 2011-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:20:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averzierlia/pseuds/averzierlia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“And I’ll repeat, Mr. Xavier, my client is clearly insane and is unfit to work in his own defense. He obviously belongs in a nice padded room where he gets a jacket that lets him hug himself,” Lensherr returns, a slightly ugly smile curling in the corner of his mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cross examination

“Mr. Wagner, I don’t think you fully understand the situation you’re in,” Xavier says, tapping his fingers on the files in front of him.

The red skinned man narrows his eyes and opens his mouth, probably to demand that Xavier call him ‘Azazel’ but Erik Lensherr, his lawyer, puts a hand on his arm and he changes his mind.

“Why don’t you enlighten us then, Mr. Xavier?” Erik Lensherr’s voice is low. He pitches it to intimidate, and when combined with his shark like smile he has the average attorney shaking in their (metaphorical) boots. Then again, Charles Xavier wasn’t your average attorney.

“I have the bodies of forty-six females, ranging from the ages of fourteen to twenty-seven, all displaying the same wounds, all who died the same way. I have DNA evidence from your client on every single body and tying him to every scene. He had the murder weapon, caked with blood from the last five victims on his bedside table. I have _an ironclad case_. And yet you’re trying to tell me that Mr. Wagner is unfit to stand trial, yet both our psychologist and the one you hired for a second opinion both say he is,” Xavier says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table.

“And I’ll repeat, Mr. Xavier, my client is clearly insane and is unfit to work in his own defense. He obviously belongs in a nice padded room where he gets a jacket that lets him hug himself,” Lensherr returns, a slightly ugly smile curling in the corner of his mouth.

Xavier’s hands clench into fists beneath his chin, and he stands. “I think Mr. Lensherr and I have things to discuss between ourselves, so we’re done here. Return the prisoner to his cell.”

As Xavier walks out of the interrogation room, Lensherr a beat behind him, Azazel starts yelling about how his master will extract revenge on them for impeding his servants work on the mortal plane, but they both ignore it. It’s a short walk to an empty room that the precinct is using for storage, and Lensherr flicks the lock on the door as soon as they’re both inside.

“ _Charles_ ,” Erik growls, pinning him to the empty desk in the middle of the room.

“This is a horrible idea,” Charles gasps out, wrapping his arms around Erik’s neck, head tilted back while Erik unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt, sucking a hickey just below his collar.

“Probably get caught,” Erik agrees, fingers working at Charles’ tie, sliding it from around his neck. “Hands.”

Charles presents his hands and Erik winds the tie around his wrists, trapping them, then flips him around so he’s bent over the desk, forearms braced on the top.

“I’ve missed you,” Charles pants, “been a long week with you away.”

“Too long away from you,” Erik says, undoing Charles’ belt and fly, shoving Charles’ pants down to his knees, where gravity pulls them down around his ankles.

“Lube,” Charles says, “jacket pocket.”

Erik retrieves it and asks “Condom?”

Charles makes a mew of distaste. “Do you have to?” he asks, voice just a shade shy of begging.

“If we don’t use a condom, you’re going to end up with ruined pants,” Erik says, fishing around for the condom he keeps in his wallet.

“I don’t mind. In fact, that would be interesting wouldn’t it? Your come dripping out of my ass while we sit through the boring meetings we have this afternoon about case. And every time I squirmed you’d know it was because it was dripping down my thighs…” Charles trailed off, and Erik can _hear_ his smirk.

“If you don’t be quiet I’ll find another use for that filthy mouth of yours,” Erik snaps, slicking his fingers with lube and twisting them into Charles.

“Or if you don’t want to spend the afternoon distracted, you could always eat it out of me when we’re done,” Charles says breathlessly, ignoring Erik’s threat. In retaliation Erik lifts his free hand to Charles’ mouth and forces two fingers in. Charles, the minx, sucks on them messily, which has the added bonus of muffling his moan when Erik adds a third lubed finger to stretch him.

Charles shoves his hips back insistently on Erik’s fingers, communicating that he’s ready _now_ and would Erik please get on with it?

“You’re even more insatiable than usual, Charles,” Erik purrs, removing his fingers, ignoring Charles’ moan of disappointment. “I’m going to have to stay closer to home from now on, aren’t I?”

“It would be nice,” Charles ground out. “You know what else would be nice? If you stopped talking and _fucked me_.”

Erik laughs softly and unzips his slacks, pulling himself out and rolling on a condom before slamming himself into Charles.

“Yes, god yes, Erik, _please_ ,” Charles pants out around Erik’s fingers, shoving his hips back to match Erik’s rhythm. Erik leans forward, thrusting into Charles, rough friction even with the prep Erik did. He rests his head on Charles’ shoulder, pressing a kiss into it through the fabric of his jacket.

Charles shifts and tightens around his dick, and Erik groans into his shoulder. He snaps his hips forward roughly and removes his fingers from Charles’ mouth to wrap his hand around Charles’ dick, his other hand pressing bruises into Charles’ hip.

“Not going to last long,” Charles pants out, unable to decide whether to thrust into Erik’s hand as it strokes his dick or shove back on Erik’s cock.

“Neither of us are,” Erik says, trying to grind his hips impossibly deeper into Charles.

Charles moans again, gives up trying to thrust into Erik’s hand and instead matches Erik thrust for thrust, causing both of them to groan.

“Charles, _fuck_ ,” Erik hisses, losing control, fingers tightening like a vice around Charles’ dick as he comes, causing Charles to give a full body shiver and spill over Erik’s hand.

“I missed you, love,” Charles says lazily as Erik pulls out and strips off the condom and reaches around to untie Charles’ hands. Charles turns around so he’s half sitting on the desk, rubs his fingers over the red marks on his wrists, and smiles softly at Erik.

“I missed you too,” Erik says, leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss on Charles’ lips.

“Mmm. You’re not allowed to leave again, I seem to recall something in your vows about taking care of me, which you haven’t been,” Charles says, pulling up his pants, buttoning them and his shirt, straightening the rest of his clothes. He stuffs the tie in his pocket.

“We should head out before they start getting suspicious,” Erik says, resting his hand on the small of Charles’ back and kissing him again. Charles’ smiles against his lips.

“The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get home and the sooner you can make it up to me,” Charles says, heading towards the door.

“What was this then?” Erik asks, schooling his face so the rest of the world can’t see his smile. Charles can always tell no matter what happens to be showing on his face at the time and in Erik’s opinion the rest of the world can go fuck itself.

“That, my friend, was taking the edge off,” Charles says, tossing a saucy wink over his shoulder as he opens the door.

Erik smiles inside. _Minx_.

* * *

 **Sam Wagner, aged 37, was tried and convicted of forty-six murders today, in a sweeping victory for Charles Xavier. Sam Wagner, more commonly known as the serial killer Azazel, is reported to be mentally unstable, and his lawyer, Erik Lensherr, used that as his defense, which failed. When asked to comment, Xavier would only say that Mr. Lensherr did an admirable job defending someone who didn’t deserve it, and that he looked forward to meeting Lensherr in the courtroom again in the future. Sam Wagner is now on death row, in line to receive the lethal injection.**

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by the lovely [burningchaos](http://burningchaos.livejournal.com/), who I don't deserve.


End file.
